A 

WORLD WIDE 
PAGEANT 



Written and adapted by Rev. Frank A. Campbell 
RosBVille, Illinois. 



Copyright 1 920 By The Auith<5r. 



A 

WORLD WIDE 

PAGEANT 



Written and adapted by Rev. Frank A. Campbell 
Rossville, Illinois. 







Author's Note 



I had long recognized the latent desire that is 
in most people for "play acting," and felt the fail- 
ure of the church in making use of this, seeming 
natural, instinct for the glory of the Kingdom. 
But when I began to cast about I found a dearth 
of suitable material. 

What I found was too difficult, too complicated 
in scenery or costuming, required too many re- 
hearsals, or was in itself unappealing. The result 
was "The World Wide Pageant," in which I believe 
I have overcome all of these objections. 

This Pageant was written for use in my own 
church with no thought of its publication; but I 
have received so many requests for copies that I 
have decided to put it in print. 

In offering it to the public I must make certain 
grateful acknowledgements. To John Oxenham 
and Hugh Moss for certain verses adapted from 
their "Pageant of Darkness and Light." To Robt. 
W. Service for certain lines and phrases. To Rev. 
Herman C. Weber of the New Era Movement of 
New York for his encouragement in the publica- 
tion. And last, but not least, to my faithful wife, 
Gertrude D. Campbell, whose knowledge of mis- 
sions, customs and dress has enabled me to make 
the production a success. 

FRANK A. CAMPBELL. 



FEB -9 1920®^''^ '^"-^^ 



A WORLD WIDE PAGEANT 



SCENE. 

One simple interior, sitting-room of prosperous home. 



CHARACTERS. 

Mrs. Securus, well-to-do American woman 

Mr. Securus, her husband. 

Woman of Japan. 

Child Widow of India. 

Woman of India. 

Woman of Mexico. 

Slave Girl of China. 

Woman of Syria. 

Woman of Africa. 

Woman of South America. 

American Cowboy. 



American Indian. 

An Immigrant. 

American Negro. 
A Mountaineer. 
A Lumberjack. 

Alaskan Miner. 
Home Mission Preacher. 
Wife of Home Missionary. 

Conscience and Destruction. 



This Pageant is fully protected by copyrights and ail 
rights reserved by the author. 

Other copies may be secured from REV. FRANK A. 
CAMPBELL, Rossville, 111. Single copy, 40c; four cop- 
ies, $1.50; one dozen copies, $3.60. 




A WORLD WIDE PAGEANT 

SCENE: A SITTING-ROOM IN THE HOME OF MR. 
AND MRS. SECURUS, LIBRARY TABLE AT CEN- 
TER, CHAIRS, DRAPERIES, ETC., MORE OR LESS 
ELEGANT. 

(Enter Mrs. Securus in an impatient mood.) 

MRS. S.'^-Well, I'm glad she's gone. That old thing 
bothers the life out of me about sending the gospel to 
the heathen, and what do I care a,bout the heathen any- 
way. Their religion is good enough for them, and I don't 
see why we should worry ourselves about it. And now 
I'm all worked up and nervous. Mrs. Heart has such a 
way of insinuating that you can't be a real Christian un- 
less you are interested just as she is in the uplift of the 
heathen. Better uplift some nearer home, that's what 
I say. (Picks up her novel and sits do\\Ti.) I wish she'd 
stayed away this afternoon, I wanted to finish my 
book, and now she's taken away all the pleasure with 
her talk about the "poor heathen." And this is such an 
interesting book, too. Let me see, I had just gotten to 
where the robbers had rushed out on Aurelia as she rode 
along the mountain trail. Going to hold her for a ran- 
som I am sure, then Reginald, the lover, who had been 
out fishing, came upon the scene, and I know he is 
going to rescue her, possibly getting terribly hurt him- 
self; but she'll nurse him back to life and then they'll 
get married in spite of his rich old aunt. — Oh I just love 
such thrilling things. 

(Begins to read) "Donald, her faithful steed, pricked 
up his ears, and tried to warn her as best he could that 
danger was near." — O, I read that! "Just as she en- 
tered the sheltered part of the trail overhung with a 
thick growth of pines and larches. "-^Let me see, I read 
that, too. Well there's no use, my whole evening is 
spoiled, and all because old Mrs. Heart came here with 
all that Missionary stuff. Oh, I'm so tired and nervous, 

1 



I wish George would come. Maybe I can take a nap 
before he gets here. 

Drops hend in hands, and finally to arm of morris 
chair and sleeps.) 

ENTER WOMAN OF JAPAN. 

I come, dear Lady, from fair Japan, 

From the land of the rising sun, 

From a land where darkness still holds sway 

And we long for the Blessed One. 

Our gods are made of wood and stone, 

That have no power to care 

For the poor sad souls who trust in them, 

So we kneel to you in prayer. 

Your western thought has entered our land. 

And roused us from our sleep, 

But we need your God to hold our hand 

And from us the vices keep. 

And now, Sweet Lady, in your pretty home 

Where the gospel light shines fair. 

Won't you think of us in the sunrise land. 

And whisper for us a prayer. 

And give of the means that will send the light 

To your sisters waiting there. 

They have been so long in the thrall of night, 

— O Sister, you surely care! 

ENTER LADY AND LITTLE GIRL FROM INDIA. 

GIRL. — We two are widows from India, the caste 
bound land. In our country a woman may be married 
at the age of four, and she must be married at the 
age of twelve. And if our husbands die, we are outcasts 
from society, and must be servants for his family all the 
rest of our days. There are in my country today more 
than two hundred thousand widows under fifteen years 
of age. My friend here, who has been a widow since 
she was five years old, will tell you of our needs. 



WOMAN (Adapted from Pageant of Darkness and Light.) 

'Tis a land of light and shadows intervolved, 
A land of blazing sun and darkest night, 
A fortress armed and guarded jealously, 
And every portal barred against the light. 

A land in thrall of ancient mystic faiths, 

A land of iron creeds and gruesome deeds, 

A land of superstitions vast and grim. 

And all the noisome growths that darkness breeds. 

Like sunny waves upon an iron-bound coast, 
The light beats up against the close-barred doors. 
And seeks vain entrance and yet beats on and on 
In hopeful faith which all defeat ignores." 

Oh, the sorrowing ones in that caste-bound land, 
How we long and hunger for the light; 
And to you, Fair Lady, we stretch our hand, 
Oh, help us to break off the bands of night. 

GIRL. — No, she says our religion is good enough for 
us. She doesn't want to be bothered with thoughts of us. 



ENTER WOMAN FROM MEXICO. 

I come to you from Mexico. I am your neighbor at 
the South. Roman Catholicism has held us in the thrall 
of superstition for centuries. Instead of giving us the 
true religion of the Man of Galilee, they have given us 
only a caricature by that name, and under it we have 
grown hard, cruel, and treacherous. We regard neither 
the rights of God nor our fellow man. 

But, Sweet Lady, we are breaking from Rome at last. 
There is an upheaval in all our society. To what shall 
we go? We call to you across the border. It is true 
that our outlaws menace your border states, but we could 
yet be won to a religion of love. 



"Tilers is darkness more deadly than death itself, 
There is b'.iiiclness beyond that of sight, 
T-iere are souls fast bound in the depths profound 
Of unconscious and heedless night. 
To their night, to their night; 
To the darkness and scrrow of their night, 
Send the light, send the light, 
Send the v/onder and the glory of the light." 

(From the Pageant of Darkness and Light.) 

ENTER SLAVE GIRL FROM CHINA. 

I come to re;:resent four hundred million Chinese. I 
am a Chinese slave girl. In my country it is consid- 
ered a disgrace to be the parents of a girl baby, so, many 
parents throw their little baby girls away. Many of 
these little helpless ones die by the roadside or in some 
thicket where they have been thrown, but some, like my- 
self, are less fortunate. I was picked up from the 
roadside by a man who took me to his house to be cared 
for by other slave girls and women till I can grow up, 
then I am to become his property, his slave, until he sells 
me to be the wife of a man who, perhaps, I have never 
seen. 

And O, Dear Lady, if some one would only tell my 
people of Him v.-ho said, "Suffer little children to come 
unto Me." If some one would bring the light of the gospel 
to our poor dark lives, how much happier we would be. 

Do you not care that our lives are dark, 

With temptations everywhere; 

That our sad hearts ache, till they nearly break, 

Is it naught to you? Don't you care? 

ENTER WOMAN FROM SYRIA. 

I come from Syria's sunny land, 
From the land of sacred lore, 
The land where holy feet have trod 
In the ages gone before. 

4 



But alas, Fair Lady, all is changed, 

For strange dark shadows fall 

With a dead'ning blight to the word of light. 

So unto you we call. 

. We live in the land of Mohammed's god, 

The Alia of dark despair, 

Whose Heaven is only a place of shame 

For those who enter there. 
Yes, we are taught that if we, poor women, would 
reach Heaven at all we must serve the basest will of men 
here on earth. We are as slaves. Sometimes a Mo- 
hammedan man will take a contract for a piece of work 
requiring many laborers, and then put his wives to the 
task while he wields the lash to make the slow ones 
work faster. This very thing has been seen in the 
paving of one of the streets of Jerusalem not long ago. 
But now that the war has come and the power of the 
Turkish Empire is broken in our country, the door is 
open wide for your help, and great results are to be 
expected. 

So, Lady Fair, the pride of your home. 
With a husband kind and true, 
Oh hear our cries, and send the light, 
Your sisters call to you. 

ENTER WOMAN FROM AFRICA. 

(Adapted f;om Pageant of Darkness and Light.) 

I come from the land of the blazing sun. 
From a land that is blacker than night, 
From the white-hot sand of the great dark land 
Where might is the only right. 

We are wanderers there all without a guide, 
Out there on the fringe of the night, 
We are bound and blind, to our darkness resigned. 
With never a wish for the light. 



All is sorrow there, all is darkness there, 
And the grossest wrongs to right. 
There are grim black stains and people in chains, 
To be loosed from the grip of night. 

To our night, to our night. 

To the darkness and the sorrow of our night, 

Take the light, take the light. 

Take the wonder and the glory of the light." 

ENTER THE WOMAN FROM SOUTH AMERICA. 

I come to represent the whole of South America, a 
vast area with a teeming population. Our country is as 
great in natural resources and as productive as yours. 
But YOU are American, I am South American. The pre- 
dominating race in your country is Anglo-Saxon, in mine 
it is the Latin. Your religion is Protestant Christianity, 
while ours is a very corrupt form of Roman Catholicism; 
hence our people grope along a thousand years behind 
the rest of the world, steeped in ignorance and super- 
stition. Oh, Kind Lady, I feel sure you do not realize 
our needs, or you could not close your eyes and heart 
to our cries for help. 

(These characters having taken their position in a 
semi-circle back of center, now retire with hands stretch- 
ing out toward Mrs. Securus. When they are gone, she 
moves uneasily in her sleep.) 

ENTER CONSCIENCE (in white Greek costume). 

I am thy conscience. Lady Fair, 
Fast bound for many years. 
But now tonight I am set free, 
By these poor women's tears. 

I stand forth here to plead for them, 
Thy sisters o'er the sea. 
Wilt thou not stop and hear their cry, 
The cry that comes to thee? 

6 



Their gods are made of stone and wood 

Wnich are no gods at all, 

Their lives are desolate and sad, 

Lady hear their call. 

1 plead because thy home is bright. 
With joy and peace and love, 

I plead because thou hast the light 
That Cometh from above. 

O, Lady, thou shalt send to them 
In darkness o'er the sea, 
The light, for sake of Him who said 
"Ye did it unto me." 

Go read again His Holy Word, 
Ere He from earth had flown, 
To all who some day hope to see 
Him by His Father's throne. 

Go unto all the world and preach, 
The Gospel light proclaim, 
Baptising such as do believe. 
In God's own Triune Name. 

CONSCIENCE RETIRES AND MRS. S. AROUSES AND 
LOOKS ABOUT THE ROOM. 

MRS. S. — What a dream that was! Can it be that 
I have been so blind to my duty all these years? It 
seems so real. I can see those poor creatures yet as 
they held out their hands toward me. It makes me feel 
as if they were really looking to me for help. At last 
I see my duty clearer than ever before. God forgive my 
careless past and help me in the future. 

(Gets Bible from shelf, blows oflf dust and begins to 
read, Matt. 28:16-20.) 

"Then the eleven disciples went away into Galilee 
into a mountain where Jesus had appointed them. And 
when they saw Him they worshiped Him but some 

7 



doubted. And Jesus came and spake unto them, spy- 
ing, "All power is given unto Me in Heaven and Earth, 
Go ye, therefore, and teach all nations, baptizing them 
in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the 
Holy Ghost, Teaching them to observe all things what- 
soever I have commanded you, and lo, I am with you 
alway, even unto the end of the world." 

How often have I read and heard that scripture, but 
it never meant so much to me before. 

(Bows her head in hands as if in prayer. While she 
tlius meditates Mr. Securus enters with the evening pa- 
per in a breezy, satisfied manner.") 

MR. S. — Hello, Dear, how has the day gone with you? 

MRS. S — Oh, very well, I guess. How has it been 
with you, George? 

MR. S. — Fine; hogs took another jump today, been 
going up for some time, and I sold that last carload of 
wheat at a clear gain of three hundred dollars. I've 
made three thousand dollars on wheat alone this year. 
I say, Grace, you never thought when I married you that 
we'd be worth 'what we are today, did you? 

MRS. S. — No I didn't, George. God has been mighty 
good to us, and I was just thinking that we do very little 
for His cause. 

MR. S. — (Surprised) You don't say so. Why, Grace, 
what's happened? (Notices the Bible in her lap.) Now 
look here, don't take things too seriously. Religion's all 
right. I believe in religion, I am a member of the 
church, and you know there's mighty few things go on 
down there but that they get something out of me be- 
fore it's over. 

MRS. S.— Yes, I know, George, but how much have 
we really given freely because we love His Kingdom? 

MR. S. — Now, you're getting personal; wonder you 
wouldn't start a prayer-meeting or something. Don't I 
give my share to our church expenses? 

8 



MRS. S. — Yes, I suppose you do, but I was thinking 
about the poor heathen who have never heard of the 
gospel. 

MR. S. — Oh that's it. Turned missionary, eh? Well, 
I've no objections; you women must have your fads, I 
guess. But I might say that I have very little use for 
foreign missions. Their religions are good enough for 
them. They are satisfied, and why should we worry? 

MRS. S. — But, George, they are not satisfied, and I 
can't help worrying some when I realize their awful 
needs. 

MR. S. — Well, now, I believe in converting some of 
the heathen at home first. I believe in home missions, 
all right. 

MRS. S. — Well, George, just how much have we given 
for home missions this past year? 

MR. S. — Well, let's see, how m.any times have they 
called for collections for home missions? 

MRS. S. — About four times in the year, I think. 

MR. S. — Well, you know I never give less than a 
quarter when the basket goes round. 

MRS. S. — Yes, I know, but, George, do you think a 
dollar or so a year is all we can afford for home mis- 
sions when the need is so great? 

Mr. S. — My goodness, Grace, you'll be equal to old 
Mrs. Heart the first thing you know. 

Mrs. S. — (Rising) I v/ish I were, in some things. But 
I'm tired, now, I'm going to my room. I feel the need 
of rest and thought. 

(Takes her Bible and withdraws.) 

Mr. S. — Well, by gum, that's the first time I ever 
saw her bothered about the heathen. But I guess she'll 
get over it 'fore very long. I want to look over the 
markets again before I retire. 

(Reads half aloud a paragraph or so of the daily 
market reports, finally begins to nod and drops paper 
and is asleep.) 

9 



ENTER COWBOY AND INDIAN. 

COWBOY. — 

We come from the range of the great South West, 

Where life is wild and free, 

Where time floats by with never a thought 

Of the vast eternity. 

I once was the pride of an eastern home. 
The joy of a mother there, 
And though I am tough, I often wish 
I could hear a Christian prayer. 

INDIAN. — White man, he come drive poor Indian 
way from home. Give poor Indian heep fire-water, and 
no give him white man's God. Indian don't know how 
to fight white man's temptations. O please, Mr. White 
Man, send preacher and teacher to help poor Indian. 

COWBOY. — 

There are towns out west without a church, 

With sin-holes everywhere, 

If this goes on a few more years, 

'Twill be too late, I fear. 

The crying need is a church out there, 
And a preacher kind and brave. 
To lead the way in the toils of life, 
And offer a prayer at the grave. 

ENTER AN IMMIGRANT. 

I represent the Immigrant. We come to your shores 
at the rate of a million a year from every country and 
from every grade of society. We do not know your lan- 
guauge nor your customs, much less your American 
ideals. Many of us come from countries where the 
Chuch means the Roman Catholic Church, and we have 
had enough of that, so we have nothing to do with any 
church. We come only to make money, and within a few 

10 



years we have all the powers of American citizenship, yet 
we have no idea of American life nor our responsibility. 

We do not attend church services, as we cannot 
understand the language, nor can we dress and act as 
you do; so we are becoming immoral, irreligious, and un- 
American right within your own borders, filling your 
jails and penitentiaries, leading in riots, and menacing 
the peace of the nation. 

Your schools are taking care of our children in part, 
but who will help us older ones to learn American ideals 
and Christian morality. This great work is left to the 
Church, which is doing all it can, but it can do so little 
because so many American citizens, like yourself, have 
no vision of the gerat need, and are too selfish to meet 
the need with the necessary funds. 

ENTER AMERICAN NEGRO. 

I represent the colored man who lives in the cabin 
in the edge of so many of our towns. My wife does 
washing and ironing, and I pick up such odd jobs as I 
can to make a living. We have two children that are 
just as dear to us as yours are to you, but what does 
life hold for them? They are black. They know it, and 
know that they are outcasts, not because of any crime,x 
but because of their color. 

Consequently, we have grown to resent this attitude, 
and try to get even with the white man. We steal his 
corn and chickens, and fill his jails. No nation can rise 
higher than its lowest people. When the great war cam.e 
we went to the front with the first and gave our lives 
for our country. Now what will you give for us? We 
need the help of the white man. We need industrial 
schools with trained leaders, and an educated ministry 
for our churches. Give us these or we will continue to 
be a menace to your peace, and a danger to society. 

11 



ENTER MOUNTAINEER. 

I come from the mountains. In my veins flows the 
purest American blood. My forefathers were Scotch- 
Irish and French Hugenots, but we have lived so long 
in the mountains that we have lost our ambition as a 
people. As a rule, we work hard, but to no avail, for our 
soil is poor and our markets are inaccessible. We live 
in scattered groups with little or no society. Our men 
work in the timber, and our women make baskets and 
mats. We have few needs that we cannot supply in our 
own crude way, but such conditions cannot produce the 
highest type of American citizenship. 

With changing conditions, our schools are becoming 
better, with longer terms and better teachers, but what 
we need most is the minister of the gospel. Economic 
conditions make it impossible for us to pay a living wage 
to even a poorly equipped preacher. If you do not send 
us the Home Mission Preacher, then a large part of our 
own fair country will be without the light of the true gos- 
pel, and we shall continue in our feuds, wild-cat distilling 
and other forms of lawlessness. 

Oh, Kind Sir, it pays, too, for our boys, when given 
a chance, make good. They become teachers, business 
men, lawyers, doctors and ministers. Their rugged life, 
strong bodies and unbiased minds soon make their mark 
in the world. We look to you for that chance. 

ENTER LUMBERJACK. 

I am the Lumber Jack from the forest at the head of 
a western creek. There are few women and children in 
our camp and nothing that resembles a home. We eat 
our coarse grub in a mess hall amid curses and smutty 
stories. We sleep in a smelly bunk house reeking with 
vermin and foul air. The only man who ever speaks to 
us of real life is the Sky-Pilot from down at the Forks, 
but he can come only once in three months. When we 
die there is no one to say even a prayer, and as we live 
and toil there is no one to point out the way of truth. 
So we live on in our own haphazard way with no thought 
of the future. 



We drink and gamble and curse and fight, 
But we never lie nor steal; 
We're grit to the core, and we live to dare, 
But somehow, we never kneel. 

And now. Kind Sir, won't you think of us 
Out here in the lumber camp 
And send the Sky-Pilot here to stay, 
To hold for our hearts the lamp. 

To keep us straight, and teach us the way. 
To live for the home on high. 
And stand by the bunk and say a prayer 
When one of us has to die. 

ENTER ALASKAN MINER. 

(Apologies to Robt. W. Service.) 

There's a land where the mountains are nameless 
And the rivers all run, God knows where, 
There are lives that are erring and aimless. 
And deaths that just hang by a hair. 

There nameless men on nameless rivers travel 
And in strange valleys greet strange deaths alone. 
Grim and daring souls that would unravel 
The mysteries around the polar zone. 

We are panting at the windlass, we are loading in the drift 

We are pounding at the face of oozy clay. 

We tax ourselves to sickness, dark and damp and double 

shift, 
And we labor like a demon night and day. 

We live on canned tomatoes, beef embalmed and sour 

dough bread, 
On rusty beans and bacon furred with mould. 
Our stomach's out of kilter, and we're dreamy in the head, 
But we're the chaps that dig Alaska's gold. 

13 



And vre never hear a prayer, though our hearts are full 

of sin, 
And here we stay and battle with the cold. 
We'd be glad to have a preacher and a better life begin, 
That would be a richer treasure than our gold. 

Don't forget the Klondike miner when you go to bed to- 
night, 
He's your brother out there on the border land. 
His way is full of pitfalls, but he's got the grit to fight. 
But he needs the power of God to help him stand. 

ENTER HOME MISSIONARY PREACHER AND WIFE. 
PREACHER. — I represent the home mission preach- 
ers of America. Although we have completed the course 
of study prescribed for the ministers of our church, and 
many of us are capable of holding larger churches at a 
living salary, we have heard the call to the frontiers of 
the church. You will find us among the cowboys and the 
Indians on the prairies, with the miner and the lumber 
jack of the North West, in the mountains of the South, 
among the immigrants of our cities, and a large number 
of us in the weak churches in the towns and villages all 
over the country. We represent you in the work of Him 
Who said, "Go ye into all the world and preach the gos- 
pel." And we have the right to your sympathy and sup- 
port. 

MINISTER'S WIFE. — I come to represent the wives 
of home missionaries. We come from homes of culture 
and refinement, where we were surrounded with every 
comfort. When God's Prophet asked us to become the 
mistress of his home, we left it all and followed him in 
his Godly calling. But do not think that all is joy for 
the minister's wife, especially in the home mission field, 
where much of the local work for the church centers 
around the mistress of the manse. 

Then there are often children to care for, and a con- 
stant worry over making the small stipend reach over till 

14 



next pay-day, and then that great black, black future 
day when the salary may cease entirely on account of 
age or disability. 

Yet many a woman is doing this and more for the 
cause of the Master, but there is one thing that we 
plead for most, and that is for the welfare of our chil- 
dren. They have a right to an education and other ad- 
vantages that will enable them to take their places along 
with their cousins who have been born into the homes of 
other professions. Will you not help to raise the min- 
ister's salaries so that their children may be educated 
equal to those of parents in the other walks of life? 

We live and work in the Master's name. 

Wherever our husbands go. 

Sometimes our hearts grow very sad. 

And often the hot tears flow. 

But not for ourselves do we care the most. 

Though sometimes we long for home, 

But we wish for the sake of our boys and girls 

That a larger check could come. 

And you, Kind Sir, can send a check, 
And fill some home with joy. 
And give a year of college life 
To some fair girl or boy. 

(These characters now retire with warning gestures.) 

ENTER DESTRUCTION (in death mask). 

I am thine enemy. Destruction. I am only waiting my 
time to come upon all thine institutions. I am riding into 
thy country in the dark creeds of the old world. I am 
gaining power through the ignorance and superstition of 
thy neglected peoples. I am the father of the Bolshe- 
vlke and kindred movements. 

I am pleased with the death of churches and the 
breaking up of home religion, and there is nothing I fear 
so much aa the spread of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. 

IS 



Ah, foolish man that you are, I am ready to snatch 
you and all you hold most dear. How well for me you 
do not believe in missions. You are mine, body and 
soul. 

WHEN HE HAS RETIRED MR. S. AROUSES SUDDEN- 
LY AND JUMPS TO HIS FEET. 

MR. S. — Then it is all a dream, and I am here alone. 
But at last I see my duty clearer than ever before. Grace 
was right. I am ashamed of what I have been doing for 
missions at home and abroad. God has been very good 
to me, and I have done so little for His Kingdom. 
ENTER MRS. S., in kimono. 

MRS. S. — What, George, are you still up; don't you 
know it is twelve o'clock? 

MR. S. — Listen, Grace, I have had a wonderful dream, 
and I see things in a new light. 

' MRS. S. — George, did you see all of those poor women 
of the foreign mission countries? 

MR. S. — No, but I saw representatives of a dozen 
Home Mission fields and was surprised at the needs here 
at home, and the terrible consequences if we do not give 
them the gospel and American ideals. And, Grace, if you 
are willing, from now on I want to give one-tenth of our 
income to God's work. 

MRS. S. — To Home Missions, George? 

MR. S. — (Clasping hands) No, Grace, it has gone 
deeper, if the home field needs are so great what must 
be the needs of those who have never heard? Here's for 
a new life, Grace, one-tenth for home and foreign mis- 
sions. 

CURTAIN. 

An effective tableau or so can be arranged of the char- 
acters first stretching out their hands in vain as the man 
and lady sleep, then again as they receive the out- 
stretched Bible from the, now aroused, Christians. 



A FEW SUGGESTIONS. 



1. Secure, if possible, the characters for Mr. and Mrs. 
Securus from the same family, thus facilitating the learn- 
ing of the dialogue parts. The same in regard to the child 
widow and woman of India. 

2. By taking two copies and carefully cutting out 
parts, you can give each one his part to memorize, leav- 
ing two of your four copies intact. 

3. Costumes need not be very elaborate. See pictures 
in missionary books and papers, and geographic, maga- 
zines, etc.; or enclose 5 cents in stamps to Mrs. Gertrude 
D. Campbell, Rossville, 111., for explicit directions in cos- 
tuming. 

4. When you have given this pageant, if it has meant 
anything good for your church, please see that it is writ- 
ten up for your church paper. If you would aid in getting 
it into other churches at the least cost in expensive adver- 
tising, please manage to get it into your "write-up" that 
it can be had by writing to Rev. Frank A. Campbell of 
Rossville, Illinois. 



